Those Left Behind
by Drucilla
Summary: What happens to those left behind? Vignettes of grief and mourning.


Author's Note: Many thanks to , who gave me my elf name. Which, of course, is the name of Haldir's fiancée... I have no shame and much adoration. :)  
  
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The grass was soft and soothing on Eressë Telemnar's feet as she padded softly towards the edge of the forest. Three-score days she had followed the same path, walking out to the watch tower at the edge of Lothlorien and ascending it, nodding companionably to the guards who stood there and watching for her beloved. Rumors of the war came and went, survivors straggled in. Around her the guards all talked in whispers about her, and about her firm dedication to a hope that anyone else would have let die a long time ago. But still she walked there as if in a dream.   
  
It was a dream from which she would never waken.  
  
The sentries remembered their parting. It had been the sort of things songs were made of, the good soldier going off to fight the wars of men in a distant land and the faithful lady, both of them making their vows to remain true to each other and to return. It had been beautiful and heartbreaking, the more so because nearly all of the sentries had heard the tales of the force that was moving out of Isengard. Very few of them expected the host that marched out of Lothlorien that day to survive. But no one had told her, and no one had reminded him. Let them have their last moments of happiness, was the general sentiment. It would be over soon enough.   
  
When word had started to come back of the costly victory that the allied forces of elves and men had won at Helmsdeep, there had been whispers and rumors of hope. For the first time since his departure, Eressë's eyes had lit up with a joyous shine and she had practically run down to the forest's edge every morning for a fortnight, expecting to see him come home. He didn't, and then the survivors began to trickle in. Some of them claimed to have seen him die on the parapets, some claimed to have seen him fall in the one foray out of the walls. All of them agreed on the one point: Haldir was slain.   
  
No one had dared tell her for a week after the reports had come in. Then Galadriel had taken her aside and told her what she had seen in the mirror.  
  
"Haldir has fallen in battle, child," she said, looking distant as always but pitying, sad for the young elf, as well. "He will never return to Lothlorien."  
  
She had blinked a little, as though briefly coming out of a dream, and her eyes had grown wide and terrified. "No... no, he will return. He will. He may be hurt, gravely injured, but the armies of men will take care of him. Theoden of the Horse Lords of Rohan will care well for him, for is he not of the best of our fighters? He will return..." her pale eyes settled back into her delusional realm.  
  
From the shadows Celeborn watched the exchange, saddened.   
  
"As you say, child," Galadriel said after a brief time, taking the young elf-woman's hands in her own. "He will return, and you shall have a beautiful wedding."  
  
Eressë smiled, and drifted off to her home. When she had gone Celeborn approached, and Galadriel descended to meet him.  
  
"Haldir's death is confirmed?"  
  
Galadriel nodded, looking pale and tired. "I saw it in my mirror. And although it may show things that will never come to pass... I know what I saw. He is fallen in battle, even as Elessar leapt to his aid."  
  
Celeborn sighed heavily. He took Galadriel's arm and they walked for a bit through the forest in silence. "His passing will be mourned, and the deaths of so many of the company. I am told that the siege was dire, and the walls of Helmsdeep were breached for the first time in the history of the lives of men."  
  
Galadriel nodded, her eyes far away as though she saw the siege again. "It was during that invasion that Haldir fell... the Uruk-hai of Isengard had a weapon that is unknown to us, a weapon that shook the earth and cracked the wall, raining the stones and fire upon invader and defender alike. Saruman must be stopped from using this weapon again."  
  
"The tree-herders have seen to Isengard," Celeborn reassured her. "Messengers have been sent to us to say so. Isengard is now suffering the revenge of its river, and the forges which created Saruman's weapons are destroyed."  
  
"Small comfort to the dead," Galadriel retorted in an uncharacteristic display of bitterness. "Small comfort to those who have fallen in a battle that should never have come to pass. Theoden should have defended his kingdom! He should never have let this battle arrive."  
  
"He is but a man, and could not forsee..."  
  
"He should have been a stronger man. The retreat to Helmsdeep should not have been necessary."  
  
Footfalls on the grass, winds in the air.   
  
"Perhaps you are right..." Celeborn sighed. "Our time here is almost ending. I could wish that it were not on such a tragic note."  
  
Galadriel sighed, too. "And I could wish Haldir lived again, and Eressë's heart and mind healed and whole. But neither will happen. I fear her mind is forever lost in the waiting for his return. She will never come out of it, and never leave Lothlorien. She will waste away here and die."  
  
Celeborn looked at her gravely. "Is there nothing that can be done?"  
  
"Short of denying her the peace of her present existence and condemning her to the horror of heartbreak... no. I was concerned for her when Haldir left, for she was very much in love with him, and he with her. I knew then that, were he to fall in battle as I had foreseen, she would never believe it. Perhaps..." she paused, and looked back at the falls from which she drew her mirror's water. "Perhaps if I had persuaded them to marry then, to take the last few moments of peace..."  
  
"You think you could change the future?" Celeborn's smile was sad, but gently teasing as well. "You, who should know full well that the future will be what each makes of his own?"  
  
She smiled sadly. "I could wish it were not so. But you are right, I know better." They turned and looked out at the forest, out amidst the trees where their people were slowly mending themselves back to health. "She will remain when we are passed to the havens, and she will remember. She will pass away her existence here, and perhaps it is better that way. She still has hope."  
  
Celeborn took her hand gently, reassuring them both as they stood there in silence for a little while. "There is some comfort, at least, in the thought that our comrades are at peace. There is very little comfort for those who must suffer, when they are left behind to live out the remainder of their lives forever with the specters of their fallen friends and loved ones. Perhaps you are right, perhaps it is better to live as she does."  
  
Galadriel shook her head vehemently. "I had rather live with the grief and knowledge than always at risk of a false hope destroyed. At least I would have the comfort of being reunited in the lands beyond."  
  
Celeborn looked out over the glade. Eressë was making her daily walk to the sentry towers, smiling her distant smile. "Do you think she does not know, and grieve? Do you think that the smallest part of her does not know, and she simply waits for her own death and for him to greet her when it arrives?"  
  
The thought clearly troubled Galadriel, who also turned to watch the young elf-woman's journey. "I do not know." 


End file.
